Saturday, March 06, 2004

Bus Of Doom

I was sitting here, getting ready to blog away when I heard on VH-1 that the little things on the Quizno's Subs commercials are actually called Sponge Monkeys! Now we know..."WE LOVE THE SPONGE MONKEYS!"

We now return to our regularly scheduled Blog...

Starting school was a traumatic experience for me. Actually, it was 1st grade that was so scary. Kindergarten was fine...half a day and we made things like butter and macaroni crafts. I had a cute little boyfriend named Tony and a best friend named Cricket. Life was easy. And then 1st grade started.

First of all, I had never been away from my mom for longer than that half a day in kindergarten. Suddenly, I was expected to go to school from 8am to 3pm? Why? I wanted my mom!! I actually broke down on the playground that first day because I missed my mom so bad. I was sure I'd never see her again. They would keep me at school forever and soon she'd forget I even existed! It probably wouldn't take her long to forget about me...after all, she had Derek the perfect child at home. I'm surprised she remembered to pick me up from school at all! Just kidding, Mom!

Anyway, as if my breakdown on the playground wasn't bad turned out the teachers were really plotting to keep me from ever getting back to my home and my mom with her after-school snacks of peanut butter laden apple slices!

I rode the bus to school. I hated the bus but I did it cuz my mom said I had to. The bus driver was nice enough...Mrs Riley. She was older but pretty cool. I had Bus #9. I was told as I exited the bus that I was to memorize that number so I made sure that I got on the right bus after school. Okay. Bus #9. Easy enough!

Towards the end of the school day, our teacher told everyone that we needed to line up to go out to the buses. She had a list of what student was on what bus and as she read our name we were to put our chair on top of our desk and get in line, NO TALKING!

That was what got me. The No Talking rule. I was only 5, I was afraid to break a rule that a teacher imposed. She read off my name to get in line for Bus #12. #12??? No, I was supposed to be on Bus #9! But she said no talking...maybe they switched and I really was supposed to be on #12. So, obedient little dumbass that I was, I put my chair up and got in line, just knowing that I was in the wrong line.

Sure as shit, I got on Bus #12 and ended up in like Penrose or Limon or somewhere that for a 5 year old might as well of been India! The driver stopped on a dirt road and opened the doors. Everyone looked at me. "Isn't this your stop," someone asked.

"No. This isn't even my bus," I replied. The kids told me to go talk to the bus driver. I went and told her how I ended up on her bus and she asked me my address. Good thing Mom taught me that!! I gave it to her and she told me to sit down, she'd take me home when she was done dropping everyone else off.

My poor mom was still standing at my stop up the hill from our place, waiting for me. It turns out that when Mrs Riley made her stop, she told her that I wasn't on the bus but not to worry, they'd find me. Boy, did the school get an earful from Mom after I got home for sticking me on the wrong bus. They fixed the list right away and I never got on the wrong bus again.

I'm still scared to ride buses, though. Who knows where you'll end up?

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